“You’re--” Cat’s nose wrinkles as a wrist tips upwards, glinting display of a watch displaying the time. The customary answer that’s been barked at interns for decades whether it was true or not dies on her tongue. Late. Astra isn’t late and while Cat’s 1997 book entitled Power Moves and Other Cute Looks To Go With That Skirt was rousing critically-acclaimed proof of just why someone would gaslight literally anyone upon first meeting, she knows better than to do it to someone who can throw her out of the window. She can be flexible. She does yoga.

“On time.”

There’s more passive aggressive ways to get underneath someone’s skin, after all. She frowns--lets out an exceedingly long sigh--

The golden monkey shifted next to her, not quite able to sit still. Warningly, Mrs. Coulter shot it a look. He was outside her reach, luckily for him. This meeting needed to go well. The Tikshozero clan was currently unaligned with either the magisterium or Asriel. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to have them be hers alone or one with the wider system. The only difficulty was that witches were harder to convince. With men, they were so simple. Save the few capable of resisting her. Hearing shuffling in the hall, she straightened. It was time. Quickly, she ran her hand through her hair, giving it just a little extra volume. It didn’t hurt to look her best. The witch entered and Marisa smiled, standing. “Astra Inze, so good of you to come. I wasn’t sure that you would.” 

"Astra," Kara hisses, voicing dipping into a rusty language on the edge of her tongue. Stop buried in her throat before she raises both of her hands and smiles at the...very, very drunk man hanging by the boot in her aunt's hand. Feverishly whispering, "We do not pick up humans without asking politely for permission first."

“Oh,” Cat repeats, “Is exactly what it’s for. You know, that happy...elusive little spot that men couldn’t find with an x-marks-the-spot map. A spot you’re apparently not familiar with considering the fact that you look like my grandmother the moment she discovered Baywatch. Buy,” Oddly, it doesn’t come out judgmental, just pointed. “One. You won’t regret it.” 

Four marriages of buyer’s remorse. 

One little overzealous rabbit?

@volatile-muses​ submitted:

Name: Astra In-Ze

Age: 77 Earth years

How well do we know each other?: You don’t know me yet. I know enough to be interested.

Do you have a pet name for me?: Not yet.

Do I have a pet name for you?: No.

Are you attracted to me?: You are visually appealing, yes.

Why do you want to marry me?: I believe a bond between us would be beneficial not only to us, but to our people. A union between a Kryptonian general and the Queen of All Media would be sure to send a message and improve human-Kryptonian relations, if not human-alien relations as a whole. Furthermore, imagine what having a group of Kryptonians by your side could do for you.

Big wedding or Small wedding?: Big wedding, for appearance’s sake.

Do you see children in our future?: Considering you already have children, yes. I sincerely hope they will remain well in our future. I would be willing to look into methods of having additional biological children as well, should that be your wish.

“Hmm...and yet this is still somehow more romantic than my third husband’s proposal. Oh, fine, why the hell not? Maybe you’re lucky number five.” Cat drawls before a pause--eyes slit, looking up. “I might even bite if, oh--”

Fingers roll along the edge of the table, nails clicking against cheap (likely Ikea) wood. Cat's eyes slit, wondering how the hell they wound up here--a boring battle ground of idiotic wits. To the side, nearly falling off the couch, the cardigan hobbit is drunk--slurring--chanting like he's watching a gladiator over Kara's shoulder. Uno, Uno, Uno--

Since they're playing Clue, Cat doubts the advice is useful.